


Pennywise Eats Politicians I Don't Like

by harperhug



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Alternate Universe, Blood and Gore, Crack Treated Seriously, Dark Crack, Gen, Homophobic Language, Implied/Referenced Domestic Violence, Implied/Referenced Incest, Memory Alteration, Politics RPF - Freeform, Self-Indulgent, Self-Insert, homophobic violence, no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-17
Updated: 2020-05-14
Packaged: 2020-10-20 17:17:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,661
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20679020
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/harperhug/pseuds/harperhug
Summary: I hold Clyde up like a taser.The clown shrieks and draws back. His lips pull back into a growl with too many teeth.“Is this what you’re afraid of?” I hold Clyde up even higher.“You stole my lunch, and now you’re bullying me!” the clown stomps his foot like a child.





	1. Pennywise Eats Ronald Reagan

**Author's Note:**

> Normally I find RPF disrespectful, but I don't think any of the real people featured in this story deserve respect. If you disagree, keep your opinions to yourself.

“FUCK!”

I brake about three centimetres from the tree and figure it’s raining too hard to keep driving. The box in the shotgun seat rumbles, and I reach through the grate to pet Clyde, my turtle. “Sorry, sweetie,” I coo at him as I pull over to the next town like a grandmother. Looks like I’ll be spending the night in Derry, Maine, which I’ve never heard of. My friends are just going to have ot deal with me not being there for a day longer. It’s better than never arriving to the beach because I’ve wrapped my car around a smaller, wetter tree.

A scream disrupts my search for a motel, and when I squint, I can see a yellow figure that’s too small to be anything but a child.

I reach blindly behind me and snatch my taser out of my purse before jumping out of my car. I’m soaked in seconds. “HEY!” I grab a fistful of a child’s raincoat, pulling a clown halfway out of the sewer drain with my adrenaline-fueled strength. I jab my taser forward and…it’s Clyde. Shit.

The clown, however, reacts like I shocked him anyways. He yanks his blood-covered nails—too long to be natural—out of the boy’s arm and hisses before he disappears.

“What the fuck?” I scream at the empty sewer.

The kid gasps. “You said a no-no word.”

“I saved your life,” I try to wipe the rain out of my eyes. “I can say whatever the fuck I like,” it’s a pointless action, which I kind of knew already.

The kid plays with the sleeve of his raincoat. There’s five long tears in it, and the kid sounds like he’s crying when he points them out.

“Your parents will get you a new one.” I gesture to my car, “You want a ride or can you home there by yourself?”

The kid looks around before looking up at me. “I’m lost,” he says.

“Alright, then come on,” I open the rear door on the driver’s side. I didn’t see where the clown ended up, and I’ll feel better surrounded by a ton of metal.

“Mom says not to get in the car with strangers.”

“Then close the door and walk home,” I shrug, trying to look as disinterested as I can so the kid doesn’t think I’m trying to lure him some place nefarious. Luckily, it’s not hard to look nonthreatening when you’re gently placing a turtle into a cage and feeding him lettuce.

Sure enough, the kid sits down and closes the door. “My name’s Georgie,” he said in lieu of greeting.

“Yuemei, but you can call me May,” I respond.

“What’s your turtle’s name?”

“Clyde, because he came in a Clydesdale blanket,” I don’t really want to talk about how bad I am at naming things. “Do you know if there’s an inn or something nearby?”

“In what?”

It was worth a shot. “Never mind. Do you know what general direction you live in?”

“Um, I was playing in the park over there,” Georgie points behind us.

I make an illegal three-point turn and drive until I see a single twisty slide and a rusty swingset with one regular swing and one toddler swing. It’s kind of sad. “Okay, where now?”

Georgie points right, and I illegally back up to turn. “Don’t drive like me when you get to drive,” I tell him, probably unnecessarily since he’s definitely not going to remember me in, like, ten or eleven years. Then again, I kept him from getting killed by a balding clown today; that’s the kind of thing I would remember forever.

“Thanks, Miss May.”

“Just May,” I giggle, then stop abruptly when a tingle creeps up my spine. I turn, almost involuntarily, to see a decrepit house that I definitely shouldn’t see as clearly as I do, so I turn back to the road before I can hit another tree and just about have a heart attack when my wipers pop a red balloon that hit my windshield out of nowhere.

“What the absolute fuck!”

Georgie laughs, and Clyde seems to be laughing too. I calm myself down by petting Clyde’s head. “Oh, yeah, laugh it up,” I faux-grumble.

“Um, go this way,” Georgie points left, and I’m relieved to drive away from the house, even though having it in my rearview mirror doesn’t make me feel uneasy.

“My house is here,” Georgie says after a while, and I pull up to his driveway.

I’m not looking forward to going outside in the rain again, but I really need directions to an inn, and who better to give me directions to the best one than the parents of the kid I’m bringing back to them? Assuming they don’t immediately grab their kid and shut the door me. Maybe I should just tell Georgie to go home without getting out of my car, and just drive around until I find a motel. I definitely need to tell him not to tell his parents that he saw a shape-shifting clown, no matter how unfantastical it was.

“Hey!” Georgie knocks on my window and gestures for me to come out. I guess he already left while I was thinking. Well, here goes nothing.

Georgie’s parents are standing at the door, and if they’re surprised to see me, they don’t show it.

“Georgie says you need a place to stay,” his mother gestures upstairs. “We don’t have a lot of space at the moment, but I hate to think of a girl like you all alone in this weather.”

“It’s not that bad.” It’s fucking terrible.

“Georgie can sleep in Bill’s room tonight,” his father waves me in, and since I’m already shivering and the other option is looking at another red balloon, I enter. “Georgie’s bed is a little small, but you look like you’ll fit anyways.”

I laugh politely.

The night passes by just fine. I can hear Georgie and his brother, Will or something, talking through the walls. They’re not loud—the main cause of my insomnia is just being in a new place—but I stay awake long enough to see the red balloon fly up from the window. The temperature in the room plummets, and, as if to counter it, my temper skyrockets.

How dare he try and scare me? How dare he _succeed_?

I stand up, grab Clyde, and open the window, ready to threaten the clown with him again, but two bony hands grab my shoulders and yank me backwards. I scream, but most of it echoes back from…wherever I am now. I don’t exactly get a good look before I whirl around and hold Clyde up like a taser again.

The clown shrieks and draws back. His lips pull back into a growl with too many teeth.

“Is _this_ what you’re afraid of?” I hold Clyde up even higher.

“You stole my lunch, and now you’re bullying me!” the clown stomps his foot like a child.

“I’m bullying you? HA!” the sound echoes unnaturally loudly; it sounds like there are hundreds, if not thousands of me laughing at this fucker. “By not letting you eat a fucking child?” Oh my god, I’ve lost my mind, either because this isn’t actually happening or it is and I’ve decided to yell at a shape-shifting, teleporting monster clown.

Well, in for a penny, in for a pound, whatever that means. “Fuck you, skip whatever trippy gas you’re using and fight back properly. Or are you too much of a coward to do that?”

The clown either grows twice his size or I’m hallucinating that he does.

“Why aren’t you frightened?” the clown shouts in my face.

“What, of your ugly face?” the words make me wince like I can already feel my mom yanking me out of the room by my hair and yelling at me for insulting someone’s appearance rather than their actions.

The clown takes another step towards me, and I tickle Clyde’s stomach so he squirms adorably. The clown screams and disappears. Great. Now I only have to worry about how to get out of here. Maybe there’s a tunnel behind—JESUS FUCKING CHRIST

I scream at the sight of Ronald Reagan, but once the echo fades, I can hear the clown’s deranged laughter as he morphs back. I take back what I said about his face; it’s pretty much the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen, not being Ronald Reagan.

“If you don’t get out of my way, I’m going to have Clyde bite your nose off,” I pet said turtle, who arches up into my hand. “Good boy,” I’m cooing, how absolutely cloying.

The clown makes a disgusted noise.

“Now you know how I feel about you,” I snap again. “Actually, if you wouldn’t mind sending me back to my room so I can get my taser and turning back into Reagan, that would make me feel a lot better.”

The clown looks thoughtful. “How meaty is this…Reagan?”

I almost drop Clyde, but I don’t, so I stick out my hand. The clown sniffs it—eww!—before hesitantly taking it to shake. He keeps his eyes on Clyde.

“My name is Yuemei Shin and I have a proposition for you. What do you know about the Republican Party?”

“It sounds like a party that needs a dancing clown named Pennywise,” he brightens.

“Well, Pennywise, this looks like the beginning of a beautiful friendship. Besides, you’ll love them. They’re much bigger than kids, and they’re afraid of _everything_, or at least disgusted enough that it’s indistinguishable from fear. I would know, I’ve attended protests in places they’ve spoken.”

“If I eat the leader of this country, will the citizens feel fear?” Pennywise asks.

“The ones I care about won’t, and the ones I don’t care about will get over it,” I shrug.

Pennywise cocks his head in a gesture I’m starting to realize means he’s studying me. He must come to a conclusion quickly, because within seconds, he’s giving me a grin with too many sharp teeth, each pointed at the perfect angle to gleam despite the lack of light.

“You’re different,” he hisses. “You feel it too, that you don’t _feel_ the same-”

“If I had no feelings for my fellow humans, I wouldn’t want you to eat the most powerful person in the free world. It’s not a perfect solution, but it’s a start,” I say flatly.

Pennywise licks his lips. “Where do we find this powerful person.”

“Well, he lives at this place called the White House,” I think about the only glimpse of it I’ve ever had, across the lawn and through the black fence.

Pennywise grabs my shoulders and when I blink, I can see that exact angle of the White House lawn. “Can you get us in there?” I ask him. “And please change your…outfit,” I gesture to his entire body. “I’m here in my vacation pajamas holding a turtle, we don’t need to look any weirder.”

“Why?” he asks, irritated.

“The weirder we look, the more people will notice us, and the more people who notice us, ther more likely it is that the Secret Service will kill us!”

He scoffs, and suddenly it hits me, what he thinks he can do. What he can actually do.

“No, Pennywise. We’re only going to eat the president,” I say as if that’s simple. Oh boy.

Pennywise’s grin is too wide and shows too many teeth. There’s something around his head I don’t see because I close my eyes, partly so I don’t have to see it anymore, and partly so I can picture the Oval Office as I’ve seen in photos. When I open my eyes, I’m in the room at the exact angle I pictured, with the red phone, but the thing that catches my eyes first is that Pennywise’s grin now shows a normal amount of teeth.

“Thanks,” I smile back as wide as I can. Maybe showing teeth is a sign of respect in his species?

Voices get closer, which means holy fuck holy fuck holy fuck this is actually happening. I grab Pennywise’s shoulders, which I’m pretty sure he only lets me do because I have Clyde in my hand still, and drag him behind the desk.

“I don’t see anyone,” the president says, and how the hell did he get here seconds after us?

“It’s just a precaution. My team will probably come back with an all-clear,” a man I’m pretty sure is a Secret Service agent points to the place Pennywise and I had been standing.

“Even if they find someone, how big of a threat would they be? You said the reports listed a clown and a prostitute?”

“It’s probably just some of those f-gs getting their jollies-”

He’s turned around, because I unthinkingly threw the phone at him. And now he’s going for his gun. Oh shit.

I curl my body around Clyde, but there’s no fire, because there is no gun, because the man has no arm, and now he has no head, and now he has no body, and Reagan is opening his mouth so I shove the broken phone receiver down his throat. A drop of blood falls on Clyde’s shell, and I wipe most of it off before turning back to a gurgling Reagan. Did I kill him?

“No, child,” Pennywise says, but his mouth doesn’t move. “Thank you for saving him for me.” He doesn’t so much open his mouth as he peels open his face to reveal rows and rows of teeth.

Reagan’s scream is trapped by the broken receiver. I’m probably not supposed to feel pride.

“Why not?” Pennywise asks in my head. I watch, sickly fascinated as he eats Reagan one limb at a time, while the president reaches towards me for help until he passes out. Then Pennywise manages to shove the entire torso in his face-mouth, leaving the head behind. I cover Clyde’s eyes, even though he has no idea what’s happening.

Pennywise licks the floor spotless when he’s done. I hadn’t even thought about the evidence, but I guess he might have gotten the idea when he was eating the Secret Service guy.

“So, how do you feel?”

Pennywise licks his lips with a tongue that’s the size of my entire hand. “So many fears, as you promised,” he actually bows. “What else does the chef recommend?”

“Margaret That-” the yawn comes out against my will. “A nap,” I switch course, followed by more cooing when Clyde also yawns and Pennywise draw back like I’m about to make good on my threat to have my pet turtle bite Pennywise’s face off.

I offer Pennywise the hand not holding Clyde, and he takes it gingerly between his index finger and thumb. Another blink, and we’re back in Georgie’s room.

“Thanks,” I whisper, “I had a lot of fun today. Well, after I figured you weren’t going to kill and eat me. Thanks for that, by the way.” I hold up Clyde and have him move his front leg, “Say goodbye, Clyde!” He nips at my finger, upset I’m having him perform when he wants to sleep. “Okay, I’m going to put him to bed. Goodnight, Pennywise. We should do this again.”

Pennywise studies me again before whispering, “Yes.”

I’m too sleepy to figure out what that means, but for the next too-few hours, I sleep like a baby. When I wake up the next morning, it takes me a while to figure out why Georgie’s parents are crying in front of the television before I remember last night’s events. I’m sleep-deprived, so I don’t think much of how slowly it takes me to remember being there, and the smell of more blood than I had ever seen in one place. But eventually, I do, and I have to excuse myself.

Georgie’s dad tells me to be careful and gives me some advice on how to more effectively use my taser. His mom gives me a wrapped cinnamon bun, which is devoured before I even leave the city limits.

“God damn, this is good,” I make appreciative sounds to nobody except Clyde. “I hope you’re enjoying your lettuce, little buddy.” There’s a drop of blood on his shell, from…I must have scraped my hand or something last night, when I…slipped and fell trying to…there was a child, a boat, and a sewer grate? I must be _really_ sleep-deprived.

All the radio stations are somberly talking about Reagan’s death, except for one that’s reporting on Margaret Thatcher’s death. I hide my smile during the rare moments when I drive past another car. What are the chances that two of the people I hate the most die on the same day?


	2. Pennywise Eats Donald Trump

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's a Pennywise/OC kiss here, but only to mess with Mike Pence. As such, I don't feel the need to tag it because it would give the wrong idea to anyone who finds this fic.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please view the updated trigger warnings. Also, one character vomits, another character wets and defecates himself, and yet another character finds a rotting head. Nothing beyond what you might find in canon, so if you've seen the movie and you're okay, you should be good to go for this one.

I don’t stop driving until I almost drive my Prius off a rusty bridge. I brake just in time and take as deep a breath as I can without aggravating what I’m still kind of surprised isn’t a bruised throat. I’d been driving for six hours on the biggest adrenaline rush of my life, so I’m pretty much just stuck in the car helplessly shaking. I still only have a tenth of a tank of gas, definitely not enough to get me from wherever I am—Vermont, I think—to New York. Something shuffles in the backseat and I whirl around fast, wincing at the burn in my neck, but it’s just Clyde. At least I did one thing right today, grabbing him immediately.

That’s not fair. I also left my husband despite my fear, so two right things today.

Across the bridge from me is a fair, and I notice a couple walking in my direction, away from it. Maybe I could give them a ride in exchange for directions to an inn. I get out of my car and lock the door just as the first slurs get thrown.

“Anything else you’d like me to take off?” says the shorter of the couple.

The smell of blood and popcorn hits me the second before the actual bleeding starts.

“You fuckers, he has asthma!” the taller of the couple shouts. “Adrian!”

I move my wedding ring to my right index finger and form a fist that lands on one of the people who are beating up Adrian. As predicted, the diamond scores a deep cut across his nose, and he goes down with a shriek that I don’t have time to enjoy before I’m yanked backwards by my hair to see another person with their fist raised. I throw my right arm out to brace, hoping that the diamond will at least cut his hand as he hits me, but he never does.

He tries to, but the gloved hand holding his arm still doesn’t let him budge.

A red balloon nudges my cheek, smelling so strongly of sugar and mould that I feel dizzy with it. I hear kids screaming and laughing, but it’s too echo-y to be from the fair.

The balloon pops, and the decomposed head of Li Peng drops to my feet.

“Pennywise,” I must be catching flies with how widely my mouth is open. It all comes back in a rush. How the hell could I forget? I helped him eat the president.

It was fucking awesome.

I must say that last part out loud, because Pennywise grins, revealing six rows of teeth.

“Oh god, what the hell?” the person I punched scrambles to his feet.

Pennywise tilts his head at me, like he’s asking for permission.

“Not Adrian, and not him,” I point to Adrian’s boyfriend.

“Don,” the man waves, but he’s staring at Pennywise as he opens his mouth even wider and tentacles sprout out of it like the end of Captain Marvel. They wrap around our would-be attackers and squeeze until their heads pop into Pennywise’s mouth.

I don’t really care to look at this point, so I help Don pick Adrian up off the ground and I gesture to my car.

“What the hell is that?” Don points a shaky finger at what I’m sure is a particularly gory sight.

“Um, that’s Pennywise. Don’t worry about him, he likes me, I think,” I’m still kind of in shock. “I helped him break into the White House and eat Ronald Reagan a while back.”

“Wait, _that_ is what left Reagan’s head on the floor of the White House?” he looks at me with new eyes. “And you saw him do it?”

“I’m new in town and I don’t know where the hospital is,” I say instead of answering, Don snaps back into business mode and directs me to the hospital.

“Do you need a ride back to your house?” I ask. The ER nurses looked at Adrian right away, and I’m pretty sure someone’s going to come out for Don as soon as he’s stable.

“No, but thank you, really,” Don claps my shoulder. “I can’t tell you how grateful I am for coming to save me and Adrian. And for what you did to Reagan.”

“I didn’t eat him, and you should probably not tell anybody unless you want to get scanned too,” fuck, what else did I say while I was still in a daze from all my freshly-returned memories?

“I won’t, but…could you do me a favour?”

“Depends on the favour.”

“Will you eat Mike Pence?”

I gag. “Yikes, no, but I’ll see if Pennywise wants to.”

“Thanks,” Don gives me a hug with one arm, because he winces when he raises the other arm.

I go get gas after the doctors call him in, and leave him my cell phone number just in case. It’s cold outside, but it’s just too good to stretch my legs even a little. When I try to find parking back at the hospital, my windshield is blocked by what must be hundreds of red balloons.

“I’m not still scared of you,” I say. Because I know it’s coming, I only jump a little when the balloons pop row by row. “Although, I swear to god, you’re being more of a dick now than when you were actually trying to scare me.”

Pennywise’s sigh sounds like it’s coming from all directions at once. “It’s nice to know some things don’t change,” he grumbles, appearing next to me out of nowhere. He hasn’t transformed into _him_, though, so I guess he’s not trying to scare me for real.

For some reason that doesn’t scare me, probably because I’m too busy yanking the ring off my finger. “Yeah, well, some things do,” I say as I put it in my back pocket. Is it just me or does it sparkle too much in this dim light?

“Perhaps we could come to an agreement?” Pennywise’s hair darkens and slicks back. His skin flakes off to reveal more human-looking skin underneath, and his clothes darken into something a hipster would wear.

“No,” I pat my pocket to make sure it’s secure. Who knows when I might need the funds, after all. “But you remember that place we went to last time?”

Pennywise licks his lips with a tongue that’s too long to be human. “You directed me to the most delicious feast,” he hisses, “and now you’re going to do it again?”

“Absolutely,” I extend my hand, and Pennywise puts his ungloved, frigid hand into mine. I close my eyes to picture the Oval Office, which I expect to see when I open my eyes. What I actually see is a roof shifting into the sky as I fall backwards, because I’ve only got half the stair under my feet. I really need to get better at this teleportation thing.

Someone behind me huffs loudly. Every softened impact I make with the stone steps is accompanied by that same sound, and bells. When I actually get my bearings again, I realize I’m sitting on Pennywise, who’s barely covering up his snarl and smoothing his hair over his temple with fingers that are growing bloodier by the second.

“Shit, let me see!” I swat his hand out of the way to check the cut…what the fuck?

A drop of blood floats into the air before he catches it with his finger. “It’s nothing,” he hisses, snakelike. For all his inhuman actions, he looks so human that I keep forgetting.

“O-okay,” I smooth his hair over the cut so it traps the blood before it goes anywhere.

“Excuse me, miss, are you alright?” one of the identically-suited men walk up to us. They look like they’re part of a cult. Given the state of the Republican party, this is probably true.

“Yeah, sorry, I get like, dizzy,” I smile awkwardly. “Um, I need to talk to President Trump about…” shit, what was something that happened recently that Trump might want to keep private? “Well, he might not appreciate me telling you guys about her. I mean, it,” I deliberately fumble and smooth down my skirt.

“Oh god, another call girl is suing him?”

“More than one,” I say in a stage whisper.

The man sighs and looks over to where I can see a group of people helping someone up the steps. “I wouldn’t recommend you ask to see him,” he looks at me.

Pennywise’s eyes glow, and his eyes glaze over. “Walk with me,” at first, his gait is jerky and unsteady, but it evens out into something a little too smooth by the time we reach the Oval Office. At first, I’m worried somebody will catch us out, but then First Lady Melania Trump turns to us and smiles. I find myself ducking behind Pennywise, a literal eldritch monster, for protection from the emptiness I see in her face.

“Hello,” she holds out her hand, “and what company are you representing?”

“Hermes,” I say, aware that I’m dressed too casually. Holy shit, are those actual diamonds in her belt buckle?

“Oh, my daughter loves your new line of scarves,” Melania giggles. It’s so creepy. I’d rather see Li Peng’s rotten head open its eyes and giggle.

“Who’s this lovely little girl?” Jared Kushner comes over. Oh god, six rows of teeth would actually make his leer look more normal.

Polite laughter draws my attention before I can do more than grimace, and I see Pence and Trump starting to pose with Buzz Aldrin, Michael Collins, and some other astronaut who looks deeply uncomfortable. Buzz spots me, and I must look terrified, because he starts making faces over Trump’s speech. I snicker, and he gives me a smile.

“And god bless the United States of America,” Trump mumbles.

The camera people are quick to dismantle their equipment and separate, and for once, I know it’s not because they can feel the old evil in the room. I do my best to pretend like I’m part of the news crew so I can keep a hold of one camera and microphone. I want to keep these memories.

Finally, finally, the last lighting rigger leaves Pence and Trump to discuss something in low tones, and Pennywise transforms back into his clown form with a series of rhythmic pops.

“What the heck are y-?” Pence doesn’t get the words out before I slap him.

“Hey!” Trump grabs my wrists and pulls me back. I’m getting really tired of people thinking they can just move me around like that, so I turn around and slap him too. In retaliation, he bends my arm back enough to be painful, but he doesn’t have the muscle strength to just snap my arm before a prehensile tongue wraps around his jaw.

Pence gags. I take out my camera and turn it on just in time to catch the vice president of the worst country in the world throwing up.

Trump runs towards the door while we’re all occupied, but it opens to the sewer, and an old woman steps out in a white dress. She looks familiar, but not enough for me to recognize. But Trump does, and backs away with a look of horror.

Whoever she is walks forward and makes kissy faces, “Daddy, don’t you love me?”

Trump wrinkles his nose. “You’re old, Ivanka.”

Oh god, now I’ve probably got the same horrified look on my face.

Something soft insistently wiggles into my hand, and I turn and freeze in the presence of the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. Where the hell did she come from, and never in a million years would someone who looks like _her_ be holding _my_ hand.

Pence gags again, and I cotton on to Pennywise’s plan.

“I would love to gay marry you,” I say loudly. “We’re going to go on welfare that guarantees basic income and universal healthcare for everyone.” It’s not hard to kiss Pennywise on the lips, not when she looks like _that_.

Pence gags again, and Pennywise breaks the kiss to lick his cheek with her tongue. I’m giggling too hard at this view to speak full sentences, so I just shout out things I know the current administration hates. “Americans with Disabilities Act. NAACP. Anti-Defamation League. Southern Poverty Law Center. ACLU. Polyamory. Abortion. Birth control covered by insurance.” Wait, I think I already said that. Shit, shit, shit, what else?

“Babies born out of wedlock,” Pennywise says so she can inhale the scent of Pence’s fear before her—his? Meh, it doesn’t matter—entire face opens enough to swallow Pence’s entire body. Over the crunching and squelching, there’s a whimper that makes me turn to see Trump trembling on the floor in wet pants.

I clear my throat. I never paid that much attention in Spanish class, but since this is Trump, I count to ten and get the same effect as shouting execution commands. I decide to broaden my repertoire, seeing as I actually do know one non-English language. “香港, 加油! 五大欣求, 缺一不可!” I shout. “(我知道时间不对，但这是我的故事，闭嘴。)”

I stop suddenly when Trump shits himself because I really don’t want to take any more breaths than necessary. “You can eat him now,” I tell Pennywise, but it probably comes out all muffled through the hand covering my face.

Pennywise is polite enough to wait until I’ve turned around to chow down. I’m polite enough to wait until I no longer hear slurping behind me to turn back around.

“So, where to now?” Pennywise asks, licking stray blood off his face.

“Well,” I rack my brain. “There’s Boris Johnson. You’d like him. He’s a total clown, he hates most people, and he’s causing his country to cannibalize itself. Sound familiar?”

Drool drips out of Pennywise’s mouth. “It sounds like you’re trying to sell me on a mate.”

I wrinkle my nose as I unwillingly picture it in my head, “Eww, no, please don’t fuck him, don’t fuck your food.” For some reason, it transitions into a vision of me pleasuring myself with a rotisserie chicken, and now I’m humming, “Raindrops on roses and whiskers on kittens, sticking my dick in rotisserie chickens.” That Vine is probably going to get stuck in my head now.

I take a deep breath and pull myself out of my bullshit. “You know what, do whatever you want, just wait till I’m not looking. Otherwise it’s too reminiscent of another British politician fucking a roast pig.” Great, and now I’m picturing _that_ too.

Pennywise laughs when he extends his hand, and I take it, trying my best to envision myself standing in the middle of 10 Downing Street. When I open my eyes, I realize I’d accidentally been envisioning Buckingham Palace. I make a quick mental apology for being so American, but there’s no sense in wasting a trip.

“Hey, do you want to eat the royal family while we’re here?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mandarin translation: Go Hong Kong! All five demands, not one less! (I know the timing is wrong, but it's my story so shut up.)
> 
> And yes, I am aware that my timing is really off. I don't care and neither do you, LBR, we're all here for the Trump-eating.
> 
> Sidenote: WHO ELSE IS PUMPED THAT PARASITE WON 4 AWARDS LAST NIGHT? WHOOT WHOOT! Richly deserved, Bong Joon Ho!


	3. Pennywise Eats Jair Bolsonaro and the National Congress

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He also eats the British royal family and Boris Johnson at the beginning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Standard warnings for gore and violence. It's Pennywise, what did you expect? There's also a moment where May comes up with a very gruesome way to keep Bolsonaro alive, and Pennywise ends up eating him to spare him that fate.

Pennywise Eats Jair Bolsonaro

Pennywise makes gross slurping sounds when he licks the last of the blood and guts off his fingers. God, I can’t believe I kissed that way-too-toothy mouth.

“Where to next?” he asks me.

“Um,” my eyes are glued to the television screen in the corner, pretty much the only surface in the room not covered in gore. Then a slobbery tongue wipes the blood away, replacing it with saliva that looks different, somehow. “Sorry, I’m not used to seeing this much blood in a single place.”

“It was your idea to eat all of them,” Pennywise reminds me, annoyance sparking in his eyes.

“Don’t be rude to me,” I snap. “I can call Clyde here any time I want.”

Cowed at the reminder of my fucking turtle, of all things, Pennywise ducks his head and wipes the blood off his fingers. “I wasn’t expecting so much blood either,” he says in an almost conciliatory tone.

“I guess they really are leeches,” I snicker. Footage of Brasília appears on the screen, and I get up. “How many people can you eat in one go?” I ask Pennywise.

“Hmm…” Pennywise rubs his stomach. It doesn’t look any bigger than it did before he ate all the Tories, but I’ve seen him change his physical appearance so I’m not fooled. “I’ve never tried.”

“Can you eat 594 people at the same time?” I ask, bouncing on my feet like a child given too much sugar. “Just manifest some tentacles like Cthulu, grab the entire Congresso Nacional, and swallow them at once?”

Pennywise actually looks thoughtful. “You have a very vivid and colourful imagination for someone who is…not a child.”

I feel a strange combination of shame and pride at the same time. “‘Adult,’ the word you’re looking for is ‘adult,’ and thank you.” I do an awkward curtsy from my position on the ground. “I’ve been told I’m immature all my life, so I guess it’s fitting.”

“Let’s put your idea to the test,” Pennywise says as he extends his hand. “I can see this place in your mind, but I’m not sure I can go there.”

I hesitate to take his hand because the gloves are stained with red, but Pennywise isn’t taking no for an answer. He grabs my hand with a glove that’s surprisingly clean and dry. Huh, not even the smallest hint of blood on them now. I close my eyes before I can doubt myself more, and picture the National Congress building with as much detail as I can for a place I’ve never actually seen in real life.

The ground under my left foot gives and I start to tip over, just before the ground under my right foot gives way. I’m not sure if I’m falling or what, but between one second at the next, my feet are on solid ground, followed shortly by my knees hitting…grass?

I open my eyes and see…ah hell, it’s the Palácio do Planalto, with a helicopter about to drop the president onto the roof.

“Change of plans,” I say suddenly. “Can you grab that entire helicopter? Shake Bolsonaro out of it, and I think I can scare him more.”

To my surprise, Pennywise obeys without hesitation, manifesting an octopus’ tentacle to wrap around the helicopter so tightly that the metal warps.

People scream, and Pennywise closes his eyes in ecstasy. Despite the presence of many, many people with guns, no one fires at the two us. I duck behind Pennywise anyways, and it becomes clear that no one is shooting because he’s pulling the helicopter closer to us, shaking it until Jair Bolsonaro falls out on his ass. Pennywise lets go of the helicopter, which immediately crashes. The pilot runs out, on fire, and I motion for him to jump into the pool next to me. He doesn’t, clearly more afraid of whatever Pennywise looks like right now than of burning to death.

“Grab him and come here,” I yell to Pennywise, and we start walking toward the helicopter. The pilot books it past us and into the pool, and I take a breath of relief. “Bite his arms and legs off,” I tell Pennywise. “We can cauterize his wounds so he’ll be alive long enough to watch us—well, you—eat Congress.”

The Brazilian president screams when Pennywise does just that, and I wince at the sound, prompting the clown to sniff my hair and make a displeased sound when apparently camellia oil combined with fire and blood isn’t up to his standards.

“You’re not afraid,” he tosses Bolsonaro in his mouth and crunches down. “No one is.”

To my surprise, he’s right. We’re completely alone in front of the Planalto.

“Come on, they’re going to evacuate Congress soon, and I personally want to see how many people you can eat in one go,” I tug on Pennywise’s over-sized collar.

He grumbles, but he’s otherwise silent as he follows me. My footsteps are muted by distant screams and the sounds of people trying desperately to hide. They don’t have a reason to, do they? I’m only going to hurt a little under six hundred people; the janitors, for example, have nothing to fear.

I remember the screams of a man being set on fire. Okay, maybe they do have something to fear.

Pennywise sniffs the air. “You said 594?” he licks his lips with a too-long tongue.

I nod.

His head gets bigger as his mouth gets wider. “Then I believe we’re here,” he says in the voice of the legion. I see his hand twist one doorknob, so I position my foot on the other door. We push and kick them open at the same time, because we’re dramatic assholes, and this time, I watch the carnage.

Pennywise’s Cthulu tentacles—oh god, my brain really needs to stop thinking dirty thing every time I think about tentacles—wrap themselves around each member of congress while his mouth peels open. I realize that it might not actually be an issue of how many people he can eat at once, but how big he can make himself in this room. Already, his head is nudging the ceiling, but he manages to make it work. Every single member of Congress is shoved whole inside his mouth, and he swallows them down.

“Holy shit,” my face hurts from how hard I’m grinning. This is bad, right? I shouldn’t be so fucking happy to see the people who left Brazilian citizens to die by the thousands-

Okay nevermind, I’m pretty happy. In fact, I’m giggling.

Pennywise grins widely at me, much, much more widely than I would ever manage. “You’re not so different from me,” he throws his arms up and does a dance I can only describe as silly.

I spare one second to think about the morality of setting a psychopath on a group of psychopaths. So many people saw us today. There’s no way to keep Pennywise a secret after this.

“You said people forget you after enough time?” I ask. “It might be time to go back to the sewers. We drew a lot of attention today.”

“Just when I was starting to have fun,” Pennywise sighs, but he sticks his hand out anyways, and he _tugs_.

I don’t even feel myself falling, but I’m on the street where I once picked up a child in the rain. Down the street is a bridge where I threw a rotting head, and in front of me is a clown who shimmies down a sewer grate too small for him.

“Goodbye, Pennywise,” I whisper before walking back to my car. No sooner have I opened the door than what sounds like a hundred balloons pop simultaneously, and I draw back with a scream. Then I’m filled with so much fury that when I turn around and Pennywise is right there, I don’t even step back.

“You’re a fucking dick!” I scream at him, punctuating my words with punches to his shoulder.

Pennywise just keeps laughing, the jerk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do you want Pennywise to eat your head(s) of state? Please let me know at harperhug on tumblr, or down in the comments below.
> 
> Sidenote: if anyone in Brazil knows of a way to get PPE or healthcare equipment down to you guys, please also let me know! It's absolutely unfair the way that people are suffering because of a president in denial about everything except enriching himself.

**Author's Note:**

> Do you want Pennywise to eat your head of state? Let me know in the comments, or in a private message on Tumblr (harperhug). Please don't suggest people who've already been written or suggested: if their name is already in the tags, a chapter has been planned for them.


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